Save Her From Herself
by the mirror girl
Summary: Bree is slowly killing herself with anorexia, self harming, you name it. Diego just wants to help, but will she let him, or just push him away? All human
1. Bree's Disease

**Hello all you beautiful people. I'm back!**

**Yes, this is a Bree and Diego fic, but if you're expecting it to be like 'It's A Ninja Thing', think again. It's rated M for a reason.**

**Reviews are much appreciated, as they make my heart happy.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything, unfortunately. Um, this story may be triggering to anorexics or self harmers, you have been warned.**

Bree sat in a cubicle of the changing room's bathroom, getting changed for PE. She always got changed in the bathrooms, she was afraid of people judging her for being fat and for the scars on her sides, hips, thighs... It also meant she didn't have to see the other thin girls with their perfect lives getting changed. She hated how they were perfect without even trying.

She liked PE though, it was an excuse to exercise. Over summer she had used it as an excuse to run and go to the gym a lot: she wanted to be fit enough to do well in PE. Her foster parents just smiled and accepted it, like they did with everything she did. Her parents died when she was twelve, and she was put into the system. She had been placed with her foster parents a month or two later. They let her away with most things, which was nice.

Her stomach groaned. She couldn't even remember the last time she ate, yesterday? The day before? Did it matter? She drank from her water bottle and took a chewing gum out of the packet to keep down the noise.

She put on her PE uniform, pinned up her hair, and lined up outside the gym with the other girls and guys in her class. Everyone had their own little clique. Bree didn't really have any friends, let alone a clique, so she just stood near some girls in her class. Close enough that she didn't look like a loner, but far away enough that she didn't look like she was trying to include herself into their conversation about some hair product or other. Perfect.

She went to high school in Forks, and she hated it so much. Not just the school, but the town itself. She'd lived there for over four years, but she still yearned for the town that she grew up in. The malls, cafes, the anonymity of it all. There were thousands of people walking down the streets every day; she had only been a face in the crowd. No one looked at her twice, just the way she liked it. But here in Forks, everyone knew who you were and you couldn't do anything without everyone knowing about it. All she wanted was to be left alone.

"Okay class, let's start off with some laps!" shouted the teacher about the din of the students chatter. This announcement was met with groans from everyone. "Five laps around the hall, and no cutting corners!" The teacher blew her whistle, and they were off. Most of the girls lagged behind, chatting, while the guys ran ahead, showing off how fit and masculine they were. Bree held the middle ground. This was nothing; she could run miles and miles on end without getting tired. PE was a joke in school. The stretches did nothing, and neither did any of the sports.

A wave of dizziness brought Bree out of the clouds and back into reality, and she fell to the ground. _Oh shit, _she thought to herself. She felt like she was about to faint, but that soon passed/.

"You OK, Bree?" the teacher called out to her.

Bree flashed a smile in the direction of the teacher and laughed, "Yeah, I'm fine, just clumsy!"

The students who had gathered around her went back to their task of pointless laps.

"Are you sure you're OK, Bree?" came a voice from her right. The voice belonged to that of Diego, one of the coolest guys in the school. She had had a crush on him for ages, but she never thought he would look twice at her.

"Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry." Bree smiled at him.

"You had an odd expression on your face before you fell is all." He shrugged and held out a hand to her to help her up. _Why was he looking at me before I fell? _Bree thought to herself.

"I could feel my foot slip, that's all. Thank you for your concern." She took his hand and pulled herself up from the ground.

"Look" he dropped his voice; "I saw these marks on your side when you fell..." he sounded concerned. _Why would he be concerned about me? He doesn't even know me._

"Oh, those? They're just stretch marks. I was a fat child." She forced a laugh. _Liar..._

He didn't look convinced, but the teacher blew the whistle for everyone to gather around while she explained what they were going to do for the class.

When Bree got home from school, she dumped her bag in her room, put in her headphones and lay down on her bed. She was absolutely exhausted. School really took it out of her these days. All her energy came from coffee, caffeine pills and cigarettes these days.

She reached into her dresser and took out a pill from her packet of "vitamins". She had found an empty bottle of vitamins and filled it with diet pills. No one would think that the vitamins weren't vitamins.

Diego hadn't spoken to her since PE, but he had occasionally glanced over at her with a queer expression on his face, thoughtfulness and something else... Worry? Pity?

_You're imagining it. Why would he be looking at you? You're not pretty, or smart, or funny. You are completely unremarkable._

She lay there in bed going over her conversation with him in her head.

_He was just being nice. You just want it to be more. You're pathetic. _

_But he kept looking at me in class afterwards, she_ thought back, _that has to mean something, right?_

_He just wanted to make sure you weren't ODing or cutting under the table. He knows you cut, and he doesn't care. Deal with it._

She argued with herself until she eventually dozed off into a fitful sleep.

She woke to the sound of her foster-mother knocking on her bedroom door. Her foster-dad never came into her room, in case there were bras on the floor or something, he was kind of weird like that. He was really nice though, he never tried to replace her real dad, and she really appreciated that.

"Come in" she called, opening a bleary eye. She checked the clock on her wall, half six. She had been asleep for hours.

Her foster-mother sat down on the bed beside her. "Your dinner is on the table, sweetie" she said, smoothing Bree's hair. It was shoulder length now. She would have to cut it soon. She liked having short hair; it didn't get in your way and it took little or no effort to maintain.

"I'll eat it later, I'm going back to sleep. I am so tired..." She closed her eye again and rolled into a more comfortable position.

"OK dear. I'll leave it in the microwave. John and I are going to dinner with my friend Carly, we'll be back late or tomorrow morning, depending if we decide to drink or not. Don't forget to do your homework and call us if you need anything." Her foster-mother got up and left, closing the door silently after her.

Bree rolled over and pretended that she'd gone back to sleep. She waited until she heard the click of the front door, her mother trying to close it as quietly as she could, before jumping up out of bed. She sparked up a cigarette and inhaled deeply. She had started smoking when she was fourteen. Her real dad used to, and the smell reassured her. Her foster-parents didn't know about it, and Bree really didn't want them to find out, they would just want her to quit.

When she'd finished her cigarette, she sprayed the room with deodorant and opened the window to air out the room. She changed from the clothes she was wearing in school to her work-out clothes. She ran each day, but because of the dismal weather in Forks, she had to use the treadmill. It meant she knew exactly how far and fast she had ran, but she liked being outside, seeing the scenery fly past her, feeling like she was flying.

After some stretches, she stepped on the treadmill. _Let's see how long you can last today,_ she thought to herself, before putting on her headphones and setting the speed.

Forty minutes and ten miles later, she turned off the treadmill and collapsed. _Five minutes better than yesterday, not bad. Not great, but not bad. _She got up, wiped down the treadmill with a towel and wrote down how far she had run in her journal. She kept a journal of how much she ate, how much exercise she did and her weight. At five foot six she was one hundred pounds.

_Way too fat, _she thought to herself.

She walked to the kitchen and took out a pint glass, filled it with water, and drained with one gulp. She opened the microwave and saw what her mother had left out for her. Pork chop, carrots, mash and gravy. Her mouth filled with saliva as she thought how delicious it would taste. She sighed as she picked it up and buried it under the other rubbish in the bin before collapsing on a chair. Her leg muscles ached and sweat was pouring down her back.

_But it'll be worth it._

She was putting her plate in the dishwasher, when the phone rang, causing her to jump. She didn't recognise the number on the Caller ID, and was confused. No one ever called the house phone. Everyone had their own mobile phone, and the house phone was mainly just there in case someone's phone battery was flat or something.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Good evening, I hope I'm not interrupting anything but uh, is Bree home by any chance?" the male voice on the other end asked. _Why would someone be calling for her?_

"I'm Bree. Who is this, may I ask?" she asked politely, racking her brain trying to figure out who on earth it might be.

"It's Diego. From school." Diego. Calling her? Was she imagining this? Her heart skipped a beat and she gripped the phone tighter.

"How did you get my number?" Her voice shook a little and she really hoped he didn't notice.

"I work in the office sometimes. I just wanted to make sure you were OK. You had a bad fall in PE today; I hope you're not in any pain or anything..." His voice trailed off. She remembered that he had seen her scars. She hoped that he believed her when she had said they were stretch marks, or that he had forgotten about them altogether.

"Thank you. I'm fine now. Just sleep deprived. And hungry." _Hungry? Why did you say that? What if he figures out our secret? _"I haven't had my dinner yet" she explained apologetically.

"Do you want to meet up for a bite to eat? I kind of want to talk to you..." Her stomach sank. _You complete idiot! He knows! He's going to tell everyone your secret, and they are going to force you to eat and make you disgusting again! Is that what you WANT? Make up an excuse to get out of this._

"I'm sorry, but I can't. My parents are out so I have to stay home and mind the house." _That should do it._

"Some other time then. But please Bree, I want to talk to you about those..." his voice trailed off again. "How about we grab a coffee tomorrow after school?"

_Is he asking me out?_

Bree's heart was beating really fast now.

_He wants to talk about your scars. You can't go! _

"But you would have to be seen in public with me." Bree thought that he would think again when he realised he would have to be seen with the town loser in public, but evidently not.

"I don't care. Please Bree? I'll buy you whatever you want. I'm just worried about you." He sounded really nervous. Nervous? Talking to her? No way.

"Why are you worried about me? You have no idea who I am, what my story is, anything at all. Why should you care?" Bree's voice sounded accusing and angry, and she instantly regretted it. He was just being nice.

"I care Bree. I do. I know you don't have many friends, and that can't be easy. I want you to know that you can talk to me if you need to."

"Well, I don't need to talk to anyone because I am perfectly fine." She was angry. How dare he try to put himself in her shoes. "I have to go do homework. Goodbye Diego."

She heard him say "No, wait," but she had put the receiver down.

_Well, _she thought, _that was weird._

That night, Bree lay in her bed, watching House on her laptop whilst having a cigarette. Her parents weren't back. She had sent her foster-mum a text message asking when they would be back, and she had replied tomorrow. She loved it when her family were gone; it meant she could do whatever she wanted.

Her hands shook as she lifted the butt to her mouth. She shook a lot these days. She raised her hand and watched it twitch. She had heard it happened to people who were anorexic, but she wasn't anywhere near that.

_Why don't you get up and do some exercise? _That fucking voice in her head. It drove her crazy, especially at night. She couldn't even lie down and watch something she loved without feeling guilty anymore. She would wake up at 5 am, and that voice would tell her to exercise, have a shower. It would do her make-up for her, pick out her clothes, pack her bag... She didn't do anything for herself anymore. She just functioned.

She stubbed out her cigarette and got down on the floor. Her floor was always clear. She stuffed everything in her wardrobe; her clothes, her books, everything. When she had time she would clean out the wardrobe, throw all the dirty clothes into the wash, put the books on the shelves, etc. She found the strangest things when she cleaned, things she had forgotten she had; a book she had loved when she was little, a drawing she did a while ago. She had once found a pair of jeans that fit her when she was ten. She tried them on and was amazed when they still fit her. She hadn't grown much since her parents died.

Sit did fifty sit-ups, fifty push ups and fifty bench presses. She hated that when you were doing sit-ups your stomach stuck out, looking huge and disgusting. _That's because your stomach __**is**__ huge and disgusting, you stupid girl. Do you honestly think you've finished? Do fifty more of each, you lazy cow._

Bree sighed.

_You wanted this. You wanted to be perfect. This is how perfection is attained._

There was no point in arguing with that voice. That voice knew what was good for her, and how to get it.

She remembered when it all started.

_Bree had come home from school one afternoon and found a note on the table from her parents saying that they had just driven into the town to get some milk and bread. They did this quite often so she just sat down at the kitchen table and started on her homework. After a while she heard a knock on the door. She assumed her parents had just forgotten their key, so she ran to the door, ready to give them both a big hug, when she saw the blue uniform through the stained glass of the door. _

"_Good afternoon Miss Tanner, I'm Officer Daniel." He looked past her through the hall. _

"_Has something happened?" Bree gripped the doorframe. She knew in her gut that something bad had happened._

"_May I come in?" He wouldn't meet her eye._

_She nodded silently and opened the door fully. She led him to the living room, sat down on the armchair and gestured for him to sit on the one opposite her. He sat down carefully. Bree lifted her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She was scared._

"_I have some bad news." He looked like he wished that he was anywhere else right now. He took a deep breath and continued. "Your parents were driving down a one way street, and another car came down the wrong way and hit them head on." He finally met Bree's eyes. " Your parents were killed instantly." Bree broke his gaze and stared at the ground. She couldn't believe it. They couldn't be...dead. She had seen them this morning! They were going to go out for Chinese tonight for dinner. Her dad was supposed to take her cycling this weekend. He must be mistaken. It couldn't be her parents. No, it had to be someone else's._

"_I am very sorry for your loss." He finished. He had no idea what e was supposed to do. He looked at her with assessing eyes, trying to figure out how she would react. Would she cry? Would she scream? Would she accuse him of lying? However he thought she was going to react, he was wrong. She just stared at the ground._

_She was completely numb. Too numb to react. _

"_Do you have any family you want me to call?" he asked after a long silence._

"_No. We have no family, my grandparents died when I was young, and I have no aunts or uncles " Her voice was completely void of emotion._

"_Oh. I'm sorry, but I will have to call social services. You can't stay here on your own." _

She had been put in the system that day, and since then she had had eating problems. Food was the only thing she could control. No one noticed, because no one cared enough to. And that was the way she liked it. She could do whatever she wanted, because no one cared enough to stop her, and even if she died, no one would miss her.

She finished her exercises and fell into her bed, but she just couldn't sleep. She just wanted to be happy. But she knew she was too fat to be happy, too worthless. She was nothing.

And it was killing her.

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**Paula**

**xxxxx**


	2. One Cup of Coffee

Bree got up at 5 am the next morning. She glanced over at the clock and sighed. She knew there was no way she was getting back to sleep. She never did.

She got out of bed and did one hundred sit-ups. She had read somewhere that exercising in the morning started up your metabolism. It was also a good way to kill some time. She got into the shower. It was electric, so she didn't have to wait for the water to get hot. They didn't have great water pressure, so it was just a warm trickle. She got out and dried her hair. She went into her room and lit a cigarette. She was running low, which sucked because it meant she had to find an excuse to go into the nearest town to buy more. She couldn't buy any in Forks, another downside of this town. She exhaled the last puff of smoke and put the butt into a bad which she kept in her drawer. It was a cloth bag, so even if anyone looked at it, no one would see its contents without opening it. She sprayed the room with deodorant and picked out her clothes for the day. Loose jeans, a t-shirt and an over-sized hoody. It was loose so no-one would see how fat she was, and warm because she got cold really quickly.

She checked the clock. Her first class was at nine, and it was now half six. _Great, now what?_

She opened her drawer and took a hunger suppressant. She dry swallowed it and covered the box with a book. She surveyed the room, making sure there was nothing incriminating lying around. When she was satisfied she closed her door and went downstairs to the kitchen. She put water and coffee grounds in the coffee machine and pressed the 'on' button. Within seconds the room was filled with the aroma of coffee. She sat on the table and listened to the coffee machine. Her stomach growled loudly. She got a glass of water and sipped at it thoughtfully. It kept her stomach quiet. _For now, at least._

_It takes half an hour to walk to school unless you go the long way, then it takes an hour, _she thought to herself. She checked the clock on the kitchen wall._ It is a quarter to seven now. If you leave at eight, you'll have time to go the long way and burn some extra calories._

The coffee machine made on last gurgling sound, signalling that the machine was finished. She poured the coffee from the machine into the coffee pot. She took the milk out of the fridge and sat drinking coffee while doing an English essay and having a cigarette. She had just finished the essay when her alarm went off saying it was eight. She sighed and went to her room to put on her coat. Walking time.

She arrived in school breathless with five minutes to spare. She was getting a drink out of her locker when she spotted Diego walking down the hall. Her heart started beating really fast and she prayed that he would just walk past, but no such luck.

He walked up to her and leaned against the locker next to hers. "Hey Bree." He said casually.

"Uh, hello, Diego. What's up?" She tried to sound as casual as him, but she could hear her voice falter. _Real cool Bree. You should be an actress with skills like that._

"Nothing much. What do you have now?" he asked, smiling at the people walking past. Bree could tell that they were all trying to figure out what he was doing talking to her. Bree Tanner, the freak. They were probably gathering in groups, gossiping. Why would Diego do that to his reputation?

"Uh, English I think." She checked the timetable she had glued up on her locker door. "Yeah, English." She was all too aware of the people staring at her, wishing it was them that Diego was talking to. People were actually jealous of her. It was really strange.

"You have English now? Are we in the same class?" he asked, sounding surprised. Bree rolled her eyes internally. She sat in front of him and had done since she had started high school.

"Uh, yeah, for the past two years." Bree wasn't surprised. Why would he remember her? She wasn't remarkable in that class, or any class for that matter. She handed up her homework on time, but only did enough to pass; she didn't distinguish herself from the rest of the class. She never put her hand up to answer, and only spoke when she was called on. She was basically invisible, just the way she liked it.

"Seriously? I can't believe I didn't notice. I'm sorry. Do you want to walk together?" She could tell he was sure that she wouldn't turn him down and unfortunately, she couldn't think of a reason to get out of it. _That's because you're too dull to have an imagination._

She took her English book out of her locker, when a pack of pills fell out. Diego stooped down to pick it up for her before Bree had the chance to.

"Slimming aids." He read from the label. "For the treatment of obesity. Why do you have these?" he looked at her like the pills were a snake or something.

"They're for my friend. Her doctor recommended them, but she's too insecure about herself to pick them up, so I said I would get them for her." She shrugged and hoped she sound convincing.

"Bree, the label has been broken and you don't have any friends." Diego said matter-of-factly. His tone really pissed her off. What business was it of his anyway, and how dare he say that to her. For all he knew she had loads of friends, they just didn't go to that school.

"Thanks." Bree said sarcastically. She snatched the pills from his hand, slammed her locker door shut and pushed past him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you." He called after her.

"Well you did a really good job of that." Bree turned to look at him. "Look, Diego, why don't you save us both a lot of time and tell me: what do you want? To be my friend? Like that's likely. Or do you just want to annoy me? Make me feel like shit? Well congratulations Mr. Popular, you've succeeded. Just... leave me alone." Bree turned back and headed to the bathroom for a cigarette.

She arrived in English fifteen minutes late smelling strongly of perfume. She said that she had felt sick, so she went to the bathroom, but she felt better now. The teacher just nodded and continued talking about the play they were studying; the Merchant of Venice.

She took her assigned seat in front of Diego, and she could feel his eyes burn into the back of her head. He was really annoying her now.

What was his problem? Why was this guy cool when he was _such_ a pain? Why did he care about her at all? Questions ran through her head all through the class.

After a few minutes, she could feel that her stomach was about to rumble, so she got out her water bottle from her school bag.

"Ms. Tanner, what do you think you're doing?" the teacher asked sternly.

"Um, getting a drink, I'm thirsty." Bree said, timidly.

"You turn up late and you break one of the class rules. What is wrong with you today? Did you wake up this morning and think you were above the rest of us?"

"No miss. I'm sorry." Bree looked down at her desk.

"Do you have your assignment finished?" The teacher asked, expecting to catch Bree out.

"Yes Miss. Right here." Bree fished it out of her bag and handed it up.

"Just put away the bottle and be quiet." She turned back to the board and continued writing up quotes for them to look up.

_Don't worry about her; she's just jealous of you. She can see that you're nearing perfection and she's just getting old, fat and bitter. You're way better than her. _Bree smiled to herself. _Don't forget to fidget. That can burn calories too. _Bree started to tap her foot as she took down the notes from the board. _Just ten minutes left._

She felt Diego tap on her shoulder, but she ignored it. She didn't want to get into any more trouble today, especially not because of _him._

He tapped on her shoulder again, but when he figured out that he wasn't going to get a response from her, he wrote her a note and made a paper aeroplane out of it.

_So original._

All he had written on it was "Smile".

_Yeah, it's just that easy. Not._

She hid the note under her book so the teacher wouldn't see it. She didn't focus for the rest of the class and jumped out of her seat and ran to the door when it was over.

Bree let out a sigh of relief when the final bell of the day rang. She was free for the weekend to do whatever she wanted. Thank God.

"Hey" came a voice from behind her.

Bree turned to look at who it was. Diego. Obviously.

"You could have gotten me into trouble with that note you know."

"I'm sorry" he shrugged, "Did it work?"

Bree turned away from him and walked towards the gates.

Diego grabbed her arm and Bree winced. "Come with me for one coffee. Please?"

Bree pulled her arm out of his grasp. "Why should I? You going to insult me again? Or do you just want to make completely sure that everyone in the school likes you? Don't worry; I'm sure everyone else does. The secret that you're just an obnoxious idiot is safe with me."

He looked into her eyes. "One cup. Then I'll leave you alone. I promise."

She stopped for a second and thought, _One cup of coffee, and then he will stay away from you. He'll probably be scared off by how weird you are or by the looks people who know us from school will give him._

"OK. One cup."

"Great." He smiled at her, but she just turned back to the gate. She agreed to go with him, but it didn't mean that she had to look happy about it.

Bree and Diego were sitting across from each other at a small table in a crowded cafe. It was where kids from school would meet up, gossip and bitch. Bree had never been here before.

Bree sipped at a cappuccino half-heartedly. It was decent, but nothing to write home about or anything.

"So, what do you want to talk about? School? Who's sleeping with whom? Because I'm really not the girl for that. I couldn't care less about who's doing who." Bree asked after a silence.

"You're a cutter." Diego said matter-of-factly. _Wow, right to the point._

"How dare you? No, I'm fucking not. Look." She showed him her right wrist. There were no cuts on it at all, but that was only because it was too hard to cut with her left hand. She hoped that that was enough to satisfy him, but no.

"Show me your left arm then" he said stonily. _He's not an idiot. Damn it._

"No."

"Why not?" He met her gaze steadily.

"I have a really ugly rash from a bracelet that I thought was silver, but was really nickel that you really do not want to see if you want to finish your hot chocolate without getting sick. Trust me." Bree smiled at him. Bree smiled a lot. She wondered when the last time she smiled and meant it was. It must be a long time ago now. It was so easy to fool people with a smile, a well placed laugh. She was an expert at it.

"I don't mind. I have a stomach of steel." _Wow, he's really not going to let this go._

"I am not showing you my rash. Look, when the rash goes away, I will show you, I promise." Bree had a cream that would clear scars right up. It wouldn't work for another week or so because they weren't healed enough, but she was sure she could put him off for a week. "And even if I was a cutter, what business is it of yours? Why should you care?"

It was Diego's turn to be uncomfortable. She waited for him to say something. Eventually he said, "You're too pretty to cut."

Bree laughed out loud. "You're a terrible liar."

"Why would I lie to you?" Diego asked, sounding confused.

"I don't know, but you are." Bree took a sip of her coffee, and Diego followed suit.

"You don't think you're pretty?" Diego said. He made it sound more like a statement than a question. Had he never spoken to a girl before? No girl thought they were pretty.

"No, I don't think that I'm not pretty, I _know_ that I'm not pretty." Bree clarified.

"But... You're beautiful, Bree." Diego said, seriously.

"What do you want Diego?" Bree asked for what felt the millionth time.

"You're a cutter. I know you are, no matter how much you want to deny it. What I want is for you to stop before you kill yourself." He said slowly.

Bree stood up and turned to leave but before she did, she turned to him and said:

"You don't get to just walk into my life and try to fix it, because you can't. My life is shit. You have no idea. Maybe I would be better off dead, maybe I wouldn't. But you have no idea what I'm going through, so just leave me alone." Bree turned and stormed out of the cafe and ran home with tears in her eyes.

She sat in the bath that night listening to her thinspiration music. She was really concerned about hygiene, which is why she washed herself at least twice a day. It was a ritual to her, and she found solace in it. What she did in the bath had also become a ritual to her. The water had turned pink with her blood and her sides were numb with the pain.

Numb. If she had to pick a word to describe her life, that would be it. It was like she had turned numb when her parents died and hadn't warmed up since.

Her foster-mum had chatted to her when she got home, asking about school, what had she learned, what was she going to do now and how their night had been. Her foster-mum could talk for hours without really saying anything, which suited Bree perfectly because she didn't have to say anything creative in response. Just smile, say "yeah" at appropriate times and nod. Simple.

The weather had been fairly warm that day, so Bree had gone for an hour long run in the forest. It was great to feel free from all the stress she had been under recently. But it ended too soon. She sat on a tree stump and lit up a cigarette. She liked it here, no one knew about it. It was the only privacy she had in this town.

When she had come home, her foster-mother had said a boy had called, and asked her to tell Bree that he was sorry. Bree could tell that her foster-mum wanted Bree to tell her everything about who this boy was, but Bree really wasn't in the mood to. She just thanked her and went up to her room.

_He lied; he said he would leave me alone after one cup of coffee. So much for that. _

Bree had no intention whatsoever of calling him back, much to her foster-mother's disappointment.

Bree went up to her room to do her homework. She was completely absorbed in calculus problems and was shocked when her foster dad came up to tell her it was dinner time. She asked him if she could eat her dinner in her room so she could eat and finish her homework. He agreed. He was so proud that Bree was so dedicated to her homework, when really she just studied to keep her mind off of food.

The aroma of her dinner drove her crazy. She thought to herself; _it couldn't hurt to have one bite of carrot._ But then she had to have another, and another, and another and, before she knew it, she had cleared her plate. The voice in her head had screamed at her to stop, that she was throwing all her good work out of the window, but Bree was way past listening. She downed a bottle of water and ran to the bathroom. She turned on all the taps and the music on her phone and knelt in front of the toilet and shoved her fingers down her throat. Once, twice, three times. Finally, she her binge was coming up. She saw all the colours rush out. _Come on red. _Finally, she saw red. Blood red. She was empty.

She flushed away the remains of her failure and ran a bath. She opened the window to air out the smell and added bath foam to the water.

She sat on the edge of the bath and waited for the bath to fill. She got a towel out of her room. She also got out her pack of razors. She was shaking with apprehension.

She lay in the hot water and waited for her skin to soften up. When she felt warm and soaked through, she pressed a blade into her side, putting more and more pressure on it, and watched the tendrils of blood float, turning the cloudy water a pale pink.

She got out of the bath when the water turned cold. She dried her hair with a towel and used the hairdryer to dry her sides, the heat helping the blood to clot. Rubbing it with a towel would leave blood stains, which would lead to difficult questions.

She cleaned up the bathroom and put the razor back into its packet which she hid in her room. _If anyone searched my room, I would be in a __**lot**__ of trouble. Thank God no one comes in here unless I'm here._ She got some pyjamas out of the drawer and sniffed deep. They smelled clean and reassuringly fresh. She put them on slowly, enjoying the feel of the clean material on her skin. She brushed and dried her hair, spraying it with heat protection spray. When it was sufficiently dry, she sat on her bed, staring into space. She couldn't do any exercise tonight, or the scabs might break. She didn't want to bleed through her pyjamas.

She got up and took a tube of disinfectant cream and rubbed it on her fresh scars. She winced at the pain of it. She had just finished when her foster-mother knocked on the door.

"Come in!" Bree called, hiding the tube under her duvet.

Bree's foster-mother stepped in and beamed when she saw her empty plate on the table.

"Were you hungry, sweetheart?"

"Yeah, starving actually. It was delicious, thank you." _Little does she know how starved you were._

"No problem! I'm glad you enjoyed it! Do you want anything else to eat?" Her foster-mother smiled sweetly at her. She was all sweetness.

"No, thank you." Bree smiled back. "Actually, I would love a cup of coffee." Bree looked hopefully at her foster-mother. That look usually got her what she wanted.

"Coming right up, sweetheart. Did you finish your homework?"

"Yeah, finally. We're getting loads of it these days." She wasn't lying. The teachers were really piling them with homework.

"Just don't work too hard." Her foster-mother took her plate and went back downstairs. Bree sat on her bed and listened to the whistle of the kettle boiling, the clink of china in the cupboard as a cup was extracted, the sound of a teaspoon stirring and finally the creak of her foster-mother walking back up the stairs.

Bree met her at the door and took the cup from her hands, taking care not to spill it.

"Thank you so much. I'm going to read for a while and then go to sleep. I've had to g to sleep really early recently to be awake enough for school" Bree complained with a smile.

"Before you do that, I just wanted to ask, who was the boy on the phone?" She looked like she was trying not to look too interested, though she was clearly dying to know.

"Just a guy from school. He got me in trouble for talking to me in class today, that's all." Her foster-mother looked disappointed and Bree felt sorry for her. She wished she was a better kid to foster, happier, friendlier. But that just wasn't who she was. Her foster-parents didn't even know the half of it, and she hoped they never would.

"OK. Goodnight Bree. Sleep well." She smiled and turned to the door.

"Goodnight." Bree called after her.

Bree reached for a book and turned on her bedside light. She knew she wasn't going to get much sleep that night.

_How does it feel to lie to everyone? Is there anyone who you haven't lied to?_

She could turn off her music. She could turn off her phone. But she couldn't turn off that voice.

No matter how hard she tried.


	3. A Short Stroll

**Hey guys!**

**I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while, school dominates my life now...**

**Anywho, here's chapter three!**

**Please review, let me know your feelings about this, you know yourself**

**Lots of love,**

**Paula**

**Xxxxxx**

Bree woke up on Saturday morning to the sound of hailstones outside her window. _No running in the woods today then, _she thought to herself_. _ She knew she wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep, s she blearily rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and swung her legs out of bed. Her reflection in the mirror hanging on her wall caught her eye. _Bed head, attractive._ She tried to smooth down her hair (unsuccessfully, it had a mind of its own sometimes) and glanced out of the window, expecting to see the grey clouds that she had grown so accustomed to. Confusion washed over her when she saw a nearly cloud free sky. _What was that sound, then?_ She shrugged and reached for the comb on her dresser, but stopped when she heard that sound again. _Well, not your imagination anyway._

She turned back to the window and scanned the garden. _Definitely not hailstones, it looks nearly warm out. _She looked down and groaned. Diego was standing there, grinning up at her with a handful of pebbles. _Mystery solved._

She opened her window and leaned out. "What the hell Diego? Some of us are trying to sleep. It _is_ the weekend you know!" She crossed her arms and glared down at him.

"It's half ten. I've been up for hours!" he called back.

"Well not all of us are freaks. Now go away and leave me alone!"

_Wow, half ten. That's some lie in. And he woke me up. I might have actually caught up on some of the sleep I've been missing. What a lovely thought. Oh well._

She turned away from the window, but he called after her. "Bree! Don't go! Look, can I come in so we could talk or something?" _He's pouting. Diego. Is. Pouting. What the fuck?_

"You said that you'd leave me alone if I had a cup of coffee with me. When does that start?" Bree knew how bitchy she sounded, but he did deserve it. He did wake her up after all. What did he expect, a warm welcome?

"Well technically you didn't finish your coffee, so you still haven't had a cup of coffee with me." He shrugged in a what-can-you-do kind of way. _Wow, he just won't give up. Can you say 'stalker'?_

Bree groaned. "I'm going back to bed."

"Lazy!" His broad smile was back, and she swore, his eyes twinkled. Just like in those really bad romance movies. _Although_ _he does look drop dead gorgeous when he smiles, and those eyes... _She shook her head at herself. _You are way too much of a romantic. Stop reading those love novels. You know none of those stories will ever be true for you._

"I know I am, but it is Saturday. You know, when you don't have school? You're supposed to be lazy. It's what they're made for."

"Are you-" Diego began, but stopped when he heard the back door close. _Oh great. Someone's awake Just what I needed. _

"Hello young man. Is there anything I can do for you? Or do you just want to wake up our entire house?" It was her foster-mother. And she was not happy about being woken up. Bree could see that she had just thrown a hoody and a pair of jeans over her pyjamas, not bothered to doll herself up, too annoyed about being woken from her traditional Saturday lie-in. She worked from Sunday to Friday, Saturday was her one day off, so she made the most of it by sleeping and not bothering to cook. She usually spent the day watching TV, unless she felt particularly energetic, in which case she would do a little cleaning, declare it pointless, and return to the TV.

"Sorry ma'am. I just wanted to ask Bree to help me with an English paper. I have no idea what the teacher wants, and Bree is really good at English, so I hoped she would help me. I didn't realise how early it was, and I am truly sorry for waking you." Bree knew: Diego would be giving her foster-mother that award winning smile, and she knew her foster-mother would be like putty in his hands, so she was not at all surprised when she heard her foster-mother say, "Oh, of course dear. Come in and sit down while I quickly run upstairs wake her." All trace of annoyance had vanished and had been replaced by joy. A gorgeous boy had come to the house looking for Bree, and had called her "ma'am". She might have been dreaming had she not felt the cold of the tarmac under her feet.

She ushered Diego into the kitchen and practically danced up the staircase and across the landing. _She is really, really happy. How does Diego do it?_

"Bree sweetie, there's a boy downstairs who wants to talk to you! Time to get up!" she sang.

"Thanks. I'll be down in a minute." Bree rolled her eyes and heard her run back down the stairs to tend to Diego. Bree rummaged through her drawers and found a pair of dark blue jeans and a long sleeved black and purple striped top. She quickly threw them on, belted her jeans and ran the comb through her hair. When she finally looked somewhat presentable, she sighed and went downstairs.

Bree entered the kitchen and sighed at the scene laid out in front of her. Diego was sitting at the head of the kitchen table with her foster-mother standing at the cooker making him French toast. Her foster-mother was chattering away about nothing at all, and Diego was smiling and answering. _Wow, he has superhuman listening skills. By now I would have tuned out or looking for any excuse to get out of this one-sided conversation._

"Good morning, sleepy head." Diego greeted her, and gave her a smile of relief. _Maybe not so superhuman, just super polite._

Bree gave him a dirty look and went to get herself a cup from the cupboard.

Diego's eyes followed her and he frowned when he saw she wasn't getting herself a plate or any food.

"Aren't you going to have anything to eat?" he asked, sounding concerned. _Give me a break. He cannot come into my house and judge me._

Bree was about to give him a piece of her mind, but her foster-mother cut in.

"She never eats anything in the mornings." She shrugged. "She never has. She usually gets a sandwich or something later." _So she thinks. At least you know you have her fooled. Congratulations._

"But breakfast is the most important meal-"

"Of the day." Bree finished for him. "You're so original. I'm just not hungry in the mornings, and why would I eat if I'm not hungry? Coffee is just as good." She filled her cup with coffee and added milk.

"Fair enough." Diego said resignedly, but Bree could tell that he wanted to push the issue further. For once, Bree was glad her foster-mother was around.

"Breakfast is served." Her foster-mother said, beaming with pride as she placed the plate in front of Diego. It had vanilla powder on top, and it smelled divine. Bree would have killed for a bite, but she knew if she did, her self-control would shatter and she would eat more, so she settles for staring at Diego as her ate, his hands, his arms, his mouth...

"Mmmm. This is amazing. You are a fantastic cook. I wish my mom could cook like that!" Diego said, smiling from ear to ear. _What a charmer..._

Her foster-mother blushed. "Thank you so much!" Bree shook her head in disbelief. She couldn't believe Diego had that effect on people. He could turn a cranky woman into a smiling housewife with a smile and a few words. _Useful skill, that._ Her foster-mother saw Bree shaking her head and started clearing the cooker.

"I have to go do some cleaning. I'll leave you two to do that English assignment you were talking about. Call me if you two need anything." She smiled at Bree and Diego and headed for the door. _She thought you wanted her gone, that she was embarrassing you. _Bree made a mental note to apologise later.

"She's really nice. You're lucky. My mom doesn't really bother with me or my brother. She spends most of her time with her new boyfriend." Diego was staring at his plate. _Why is he telling you this?_ Bree felt a pang of sympathy. _You? Feeling sorry for Diego? He's practically stalking you!_

"That sucks." Bree said awkwardly. She didn't know what else to say to him, so she took a sip of her coffee.

Diego looked up and smiled. "It doesn't matter. I actually kind of enjoy it. It means I can do my own thing, like turn up at random girls' houses before anyone else in my house is awake." He chuckled to himself.

"I would almost accuse you of stalking me." Bree said, only half-jokingly.

"I'm not stalking you, though I understand why you would think so. I just care, so I pay attention. Like for instance, I know you're lying about not being hungry in the morning. I saw you watching me eat. You looked like you almost wanted to jump across the table and eat it yourself." Diego stared at Bree, assessing her reaction. It annoyed her. How dare he turn up in her house and start making accusations like that? He may be the king in their school, but this was her _house_.

"You just imagined it. Do you want a cup of coffee?" Her voice was laced with annoyance, so Diego just nodded. Bree got up and reached up to get him a cup out of the cupboard. When she turned around she caught Diego staring at her, mainly at her stomach. _He's thinking of how fat you are, how disgusting you look without clothes on. Can you blame him?_ Bree quickly put his cup down on the table and crossed her arms across her stomach self-consciously.

"Finished staring?" she asked. She knew she was being rude, but she was just trying to distract him from noticing anything else about her habits that he could pass off as a problem. She glanced down and made sure that her sleeves were completely covering her arms.

"You're so skinny." He said simply.

_If you deny it he'll definitely think you have even more of a self-esteem problem than he thinks already. Just change the subject again. He's not wise to your tricks yet._

"Do you take sugar?" Bree asked.

"Um, what? Oh, yeah, two please."

Bree practically ran over to the cupboard that they kept the sugar in before he had a chance to figure out what she was doing. She put the sugar on the table, and ran back over to get him a teaspoon. _Hey, with the stress he's giving you, you might burn a few pounds._

"Thank you." He spooned two sugars into his coffee and stirred it thoughtfully.

"You said you have a brother? Does he go to our school?" Bree asked, pushing the milk over to him. He thanked her and poured a drop in.

He paused, and looked back to his coffee. "Yeah, Fred. He works in the arcade. He dropped out of school when he was sixteen because he was bullied a lot and he wasn't good at school to begin with, so my mom agreed to let him drop out. He's not stupid or anything, he's just not book smart." He shrugged. Bree tried to figure out who his brother was, but she hadn't been to the arcade in months. Besides, there were a lot of people who worked in that arcade. She would probably know him to see though.

"Do you two get along?" Bree asked. She was trying to keep him talking about himself so he wouldn't keep trying to figure her out. So far it was working.

"Most of the time, yeah. He can get on my nerves though." He smiled to himself. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"Nope, only child. Thank God." Diego laughed. His laugh was contagious. It made her smile. _Does he have like, mind-control skills or something?_

Diego took a sip of his coffee. "This coffee is really nice! We only have the instant coffee at home, but I'm the only one in my house who drinks coffee, so it would be pointless to buy a machine or something."

"I only drink instant when I'm in a hurry. I can't stand the stuff I have to put in at least three sugars before I can even try to drink it." _Look at you, sitting across your kitchen table from one of the hottest guys in school, talking about coffee of all things. Have we entered some kind of alternate universe?_

"You compliment people a lot." Bree said after a while. "Why?"

"Do I really need a reason to?" Diego asked in reply. _Answering a question with a question, no fair._

"Yeah, pretty much." Bree took another sip of coffee.

"I just want people to feel good about themselves, I guess. I don't know what everyone has to go through when they leave school or whatever. Someone could be depressed or suicidal or like, anorexic, without anyone suspecting anything. If I can make someone happy, even for just a second, with a few words, then it would be selfish not to?" Diego looked dreamy, like he was remembering something. Bree wished she knew what he was thinking.

"That's a good reason." She smiled.

_It's weird. I feel really comfortable around him, like I could say anything and he would understand. What is going on here? _

"Do you want to go for a walk?" Diego asked, suddenly.

Bree smiled. "Sure."

Diego and Bree were walking together through the forest in a comfortable silence.

"Tell me something about yourself." Bree said after a while.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Anything." Bree grinned.

"Um, OK." He thought for a while. "OK, you will not believe this but... I have never read a whole book. I just don't have the patience. I read the first few chapters, get bored and skip to the last one. Then I know what's going to happen, so what's the point in reading the rest of it?"

Bree was amazed. "Seriously? You've never read a book from cover to cover? What do you do when you have to do book reports or something?"

"I get notes about it online and bullshit the rest." Diego said, guiltily.

"That takes skill." Bree laughed.

Diego then surprised Bree by pulling out a packet of cigarettes from his jacket pocket.

"Do you mind?" he asked, looking almost ashamed. _Ah, bless his little cotton socks._

Bree put on an expression of mock horror and took the box out of his hands. "These could kill you, you know? They are really, seriously bad for you. Trust me, I wouldn't lie to you. So clearly I have no choice but to take one off of you, for your own good. I trust you understand." She took one and pulled a lighter out of her own pocket and lit it. Diego grinned from ear to ear. He took the box back and took one for himself.

"Do you want to sit down?" he asked and Bree nodded.

Diego spotted a tree stump nearby. He shrugged off his jacket and draped it across the it. _What a gentleman._ He gestured for Bree to sit down, and he sat down beside her.

"It's actually kind of pretty here, with the grey sunlight filtering through the canopy of leaves." Bree commented.

"So why did you start smoking?" he asked her after a while.

She inhaled deeply from her cigarette, before breathing it out slowly. "I started just after my parents died, so I guess I would have been about twelve-ish." Bree flicked the ash off and took another drag.

"That's tough." Diego said, sympathetically. "Do you miss them?"

Bree fixed her gaze on a flower growing nearby before she whispered, "All the time".

Diego and Bree were talking animatedly as they walked through the shady forest. They were both too caught up in what they were saying that they did not notice what they were walking past, or where they were even going so they were both rather surprised when they found themselves in a grassy clearing.

"I've never even heard of here before." said Bree, looking around, drinking in the beauty of the place.

"Me neither" Diego said. He found a shady spot under a chestnut tree and lay down on the grass. Bree knelt down beside him.

"What's your story, Bree?" Diego asked, squinting up at her, the sun blinding him.

"It's not a very exciting one, really. I lived with my parents until they died, then I was put in the foster system, and then I wound up here. That's all really. Cheerful, I know." Bree shrugged.

"That's the bones of your story, what's the flesh?" _Poetic. How come he gets to be smart as well as gorgeous?_

Bree shrugged again and lay down beside Diego, the grass soft and springy. They lay there in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Bree didn't even notice that Diego had moved at all until his hand was holding hers gently. His skin was really soft, as if he used hand cream a lot. She gripped his hand back and they just lay there together for hours, neither of them talking, neither of them even thought of moving. They just held hands.

Bree couldn't remember when the last time she was this relaxed or happy was. She felt like she could have stayed there forever, until the heavens opened and it poured rain.

"Aaaaah!" shouted Bree.

They both jumped up and ran into the forest for shelter, Bree's hand still grasping Diego's. They found a large tree, and they huddled together for warmth under a large oak tree. The sound of the rain was deafening.

"Hey, Bree. You're a little bit damp. Did you know?" They looked at each other for a long second, before the both erupted into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. They both laughed until tears ran down their cheeks. Bree leaned on Diego for support because she was laughing so hard and Diego pulled her in close to him. Bree's forehead was pressed against Diego's shoulder, and they were both shaking. They both completely forgot about how wet and cold they were. Bree eventually stopped laughing and looked up into Diego's face. He stopped laughing, and his expression turned solemn. He lifted one hand and traced the outline of Bree's lips before leaning down and kissing them softly. It lasted but a moment, but Bree's lips tingled, relishing the feeling. Diego pulled her close, and Bree laced her arms around his neck.

Bree froze when she felt a buzzing against her thigh.

"Either you're um, really enjoying this or someone's calling you." Bree teased.

Diego reached into his pocket and checked the caller ID. She could see his body tense before he pressed the reject button and pushed the phone back into his pocket.

"Who was it?" Bree asked him nervously.

"No one important. We should be getting back, it's nearly three o'clock. Your foster-mom will think I've kidnapped you or something." Bree could tell he was trying to joke, but he was clearly upset. He rolled up his sleeves absent-mindedly before stepping back out into the rain.

Bree glanced at his bare arms and gasped.

They were covered in white scars. Cigarette and acid burns, cut from his palms to where his sleeves stop. They were clearly not recent, but they still scared Bree senseless.

"What's wrong, Bree?" Diego asked. He followed her gaze to his arms and quickly pulled his sleeves back down.

"I'm sorry; I roll my sleeves up when I'm stressed. I don't even notice that I'm doing it, though I've never done it in front of someone. Hmm." Diego shrugged.

"What happened to you?" Bree breathed. The image was imprinted on her eyelids and she saw it every time she blinked.

"They're really old, you can barely see them. It doesn't matter now. Really." He smiled at Bree, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Please, Diego. Please...tell me." Bree felt like she was on the brink of crying.

Diego pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket and took two out. He handed one to Bree and lit it for her, then his own.

"There's nothing to tell." Diego shrugged again, but Bree noticed that he was avoiding her eyes.

"Did you do these to yourself?" Bree asked. She was shaking, but not from the cold. "Some of them." He took a pull from his cigarette. "Someone who used to be in my life did the rest. But he's history now." Bree was so scared for him, but also incredibly angry. How dare someone do that to Diego? He was definitely one of the nicest people that she knew.

"Is he the one who called you just then?" Bree asked slowly. She regretted it, hoping she hadn't overstepped her boundaries.

"I showed you mine, your turn." _Don't. He'll make you stop. Don't be an idiot._

_I don't care._

Bree rolled up her sleeves, and then pulled her top up enough to show her stomach and ribs. They were covered with red and white scars which shockingly contrasted with her pale skin tone.

Diego sucked in his breath when he saw her stomach and Bree pulled her top back down. _He's disgusted by how fat you are. Surprise, surprise. _

He pulled her in close to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed him as tight as she could. She could hear his breath falter, like he was crying. She wished she could fix everything wrong with Diego's life with just a hug, but she knew it just wasn't that easy. One thing was for sure though, Bree Tanner had made a friend.


	4. Paranoia?

Bree's phone was vibrating on the nightstand by her bed. She always switched it to silent at night so if anyone called, which didn't often happen, it wouldn't wake her up, but clearly she had forgotten to do that the night before. You don't realise how loud and obnoxious a phone can be until it wakes you up in the middle of the night when you are quite happily asleep.

_Who the hell could be calling me? _She thought to herself, slightly annoyed. She reached her arm out of the warmth of the duvet and picked up the blasted thing.

She opened her eyes a crack to check the caller ID, but regretted it. Those screens are just too bright sometimes.

"Hello?" she answered, groggily.

"Bree? I'm sorry; I hope I didn't wake you." Diego. Of course. Who else did she know that would call her at ungodly hours of the night?

_For Chrissakes, does that boy ever sleep?_

"What time is it?" she asked, yawning.

"It's half seven. Sorry." Diego sounded like a puppy that was afraid of getting snapped at by its owner. Bree knew she should be nice to him, but then again, it was Sunday and he had woken her at half seven. He was basically asking for mean Bree.

"Seriously? What could you possibly want this early?" Bree looked at the sky through a crack in her curtains. It wasn't even beginning to lighten yet. She lay back down on her pillow and stretched out like a cat.

"I was wondering if a certain lady wanted to get breakfast with an undeserving admirer?" he asked, sounding so deliciously nervous through the horribly fake British accent.

"Sure, if by breakfast you mean a cup of coffee and if this idea was to be put into play in say, four or five hours." Bree yawned again, burrowing deeper into her pillow.

"But it's such a beautiful morning! Doesn't it seem like such a shame to waste it?"

_Is he for real?_

"Diego, it's not even bright out yet, therefore it isn't morning. It could be 3 AM for all I care. It would just be cruel to come between me and my bed and would not be good for your health." Bree said, dramatically.

"So no chance of grabbing that coffee now then?"

"No chance in hell. I'm going back to sleep now, like a sane person. You should try it sometime! Bye bye Diego."

"Seeya Bree." He said, chuckling.

She hit the end call button and replaced the phone on her bedside table. She had nearly gotten comfy again when her phone started making noise again.

_Oh my God, if that's Diego, rip him a new one._

"What?" she answered. She knew she sounded rude, but she really didn't care. It was half seven in the AM for God's sake!

"Bree."

"Yes? Who is this?"

The voice sounded masculine, but then again, she was tired, it could be a dog for all she knew. It's not like they were a big talker.

"Hello?" she demanded.

Then nothing. The line went dead. Bree took the phone away from her ear and waited for it to ring again.

_What the fuck was that? _

She checked her calls list, expecting there to be a number or some clue, but no. No caller ID, nothing.

"Well, that was weird." She muttered to herself.

_The world is full of weirdos, didn't you know?_

She turned off the vibrate setting on her phone and lay back down, hoping to get some sleep.

_Do you enjoy being optimistic?_

"Shut up brain."

She spent the next hour or so tossing and turning in her bed. Her mind kept wandering back to that weird phone call. Who had her number that she knew that would do that? Who did she know apart from Diego that would even be awake at this hour?

Then, it dawned on her, Diego! Not only was he awake, he knew that she was awake; it made perfect sense for it to be him.

_Wow, that took you a while._

"Shut up, I'm tired!" she muttered to herself.

At around half eight she heard the front door close, signalling that her foster-parents had both left for work. She finally gave up on the idea of falling back asleep and reached for her phone. She had a text message from Diego.

"Hey gorgeous. Text me when you're awake and our plan can be put into action!"

_God, he is so sweet. So what's he doing with a mess like you? _

She hit reply and texted back:

"Hey, sorry about that, I'm not good at mornings, not being a crazy person and all. Now, about that plan. Wanna come over to mine now? Rents are gone, and I have the coffee."

She set her phone down and got her cigarettes out of the drawer she kept them hidden in. She fished one out and sparked up, inhaling and exhaling slowly. She loved the feeling of the first cigarette of the day, the slight head-spin, almost like being high. She opened the window as to let the smoke out and lit a stick of incense. A slight breeze rushed in, smelling of rain. She took another drag and exhaled, watching it billow out in front of her. Perfection.

After she had finished with her morning dose of nicotine, she did her morning workout. Three hundred sit ups, one hundred press ups and five hundred jumping jacks. When she had first started working out in the mornings, it had been so hard. She would be in bits afterwards, all out of breath and aching everywhere. Over time however she had gotten used to it and now it wasn't too bad.

She took a sip from the water bottle she kept in her room and walked over to the mirror.

_No zits, yay! Still a fat mess though. Oh, and your hair looks like it could have a family of birds living in it. _

"Thank you for that."

_No problem!_

She stared at her reflection and ran her hands over her stomach, _not flat enough,_ her ribs, _you can barely feel them, ew, _and finally her face. Her eyes didn't shine like they used to and her cheeks looked hollow and empty. She barely recognised herself.

She tore her gaze away and combed her hair until there was no trace of the unruly bed head, wincing as she tackled each knot. Her hair was starting to fall out a little bit, which was worrying but not all that surprising seeing as she kept forgetting to take her vitamin and iron supplements.

She looked through her wardrobe, trying to decide on an outfit. She got out of her pyjamas and replaced them with a string top, a blue and white striped long top and then a black t-shirt and a pair of baggy blue jeans with knee high socks underneath. Nice and warm. She tied her hair up so it wouldn't bug her. She hated when her hair was in her face.

When she was fairly satisfied with her appearance, she went to the bathroom and brushed her teeth. They were yellowing slightly, no matter how much she brushed them. Weird.

Afterwards she headed downstairs to the kitchen. She could smell the coffee in the machine and the mouth-watering scent of toast. She opened the fridge and looked at all the food that was just screaming out to her.

_Don't even think about eating any of that. _

She sighed and closed it again and instead reached for the guilt free coffee.

"You know, I wish you had never come into my life sometimes."

_Shut up. You love me really._

"I know..."

A knock at the door disturbed her from her internal argument. She smiled to herself.

"Why hello there stranger" she said as she opened the door.

"Hello gorgeous" Diego said. He was wearing a t-shirt with a shirt over it and a pair of jeans. Yum. He reached out to her and pulled her into a hug. She happily obliged, inhaling his scent. Unfortunately, he let her go, making her pout.

"A pout? Seriously?" he teased.

"Yes. Come on." She took his hand and dragged him to the kitchen.

"So, coffee, yeah?" she said, taking two cups from the cupboard.

"Sure." He smiled at her, causing her insides to melt a little.

_You're pathetic._

She poured the coffee into each cup and passed one to him.

"Are you old enough to put in your own milk?" she teased.

"Just about, thanks" he got up and took his cup. Bree got the milk from the fridge and the sugar from the cupboard and sat down at the table.

"So, what do you want to do today?" she asked him, pouring milk into her coffee.

"I hadn't thought of anything past seeing you." He said, sitting down opposite her and spooning two sugars into his cup.

"Well aren't you Mister. Romantic?" she said, sticking her tongue out at him.

"I like to think so myself." he stuck his tongue out at her, causing her to laugh.

"Come on, let's go in and watch some TV" she said, standing up and taking his hand.

She put her cup on the table and plonked down on the couch, holding a pillow to her stomach. Diego sat down beside her and grabbed the remote.

"Oi!" Bree demanded, "Who said you could have the remote?" she reached over to snatch it out of his hands, but he caught her arm and pulled her to him.

"Well, I did actually!" He started tickling her sides.

"OK! OK! You can have the remote! Please! Stop!" she squealed. She was really, really ticklish.

"Wise choice fair maiden." He stared at the remote for a while and then pressed some buttons. "Uh, fair maiden, how does this work?"

Bree laughed at him before taking it off him and turned on the TV for him.

"So masculine." She teased.

"Aren't I just!" he agreed.

He turned on some random comedy and they cuddled up together, occasionally sipping at their coffees.

Heaven.

After about an hour of watching TV, Diego broke the comfortable silence by suggesting they go outside for a cancer stick to which Bree readily agreed. They stepped out onto the patio and Diego offered her one of his smokes.

"Always the gentleman, I see." Bree smiled.

He sparked up his and then held out his lit lighter for hers. She lit it and exhaled slowly.

"So, are you gonna tell me who was it that called you yesterday?" Bree asked. Diego stiffened and his eyes fixed on the ground. "If you don't want to tell me, it's fine."

"I do want to tell you, but I don't want to at the same time, if that makes any sense." Diego said, quietly.

"It makes total sense." Bree reassured.

A silence fell then, and Bree regretted asking him.

_Idiot. _

"It was my dad." Diego said bitterly, breaking the silence. Bree looked up at him, but his eyes were looking past her, looking at things that Bree would never see. "He's the one that called me and he was the one who did all the handywork that you saw. He was an alcoholic and a mean drunk. Probably still is. When I was little, he used to hit my mom. I remember her screams and the sound of his fist colliding with her frail body. When he was finished with her, he'd come and find me and my brother. He would yell at us, blame us for ruining his life, and then he'd get violent. I always protected my brother, even though it made my dad even angrier. Then, about two years ago my mom finally left him, taking us with her and we moved out here. He still calls us though. We've all changed our numbers, but he always manages to get our new ones."

"Why does he call you?" Bree asked quietly. She was shaking with pity and anger. How could his father do that? He was supposed to protect and love Diego, not hurt him. Who could do that to their own child?

"Sometimes to apologise, beg for us to forgive him. Other times he'll scream abuse and make threats. So I've taken to just ignoring his calls." Diego shrugged, as if it were completely normal. He took another pull from his cigarette and Bree could see his hands shake.

"Can't you call the cops, get him locked up?" she suggested.

"We could, yes, but he has friends that would make our lives hell. This works for us."

Bree wanted to reach out to him, take his hands, hold him close to her, but he was still looking at that which Bree couldn't see.

They stood in silence until Diego smiled and said:

"I've told you my story, now you tell me yours."

Now it was Bree's turn to look past him, to look to a place in her mind.

"I started cutting after my parents died. That was a really bad time in my life, obviously. Started smoking around then, too. I was put in the foster system, which really sucked. The other kids were either really young or a good few years older than me. There was only one girl who was around my age. Her name was Ashy. She was so thin and so perfect. All the guys liked her, even though they were older. She was just so damn nice to everyone, and she wanted to be friends with _me! _She had her problems though. She would skip meals and no one would even question it. We were best friends for all the time I was in the system. I wanted to be just like her, so I started skipping meals too. No one found out, it was our secret. Then she was fostered, so I was alone. I continued skipping meals and all that, not because I wanted to be thin really, just because it was something that I had gotten used to by now. Then I was fostered and now I'm here." Bree shrugged, and flicked the ash off of her cigarette.

"Have you spoken to her since?" Diego asked.

"Nah, she's in Europe last I heard." Bree said nonchalantly.

"Bitch..." he said quietly.

"What was that?"

"Nothing at all dear."

Diego went home at around four, claiming that he had homework to do. Bree was sad to see him go, but glad of the time she had to herself. Her parents would be home at around six, and this meant that she could prepare herself.

First, she went to the bathroom to weigh herself. She was at 120 pounds. _Too much. _Her goal weight was 100, because then she would be underweight, finally. She put back on her clothes, and brushed her teeth. The toothpaste made her feel full and she loved the feeling of clean teeth. She rinsed the sink and went downstairs.

She put on a pot of pasta and put some sausages on to grill while she sipped at a glass of water.

_God, that smells so good._

She mentally shook herself and did some sit ups while she waited for her food to be ready.

When it was finally cooked, she put the pasta and sausages on a plate and doused it with ketchup, before throwing it in the outside rubbish bin. She hated wasting the food, but it was better than actually _eating_ it. All those unnecessary calories, no thank you. She put the plate in the dishwasher, but left the pot and grill tray unwashed as proof.

She checked her watch, half four.

It was starting to get dark out. Stupid Autumn weather. It was dry though, so she decided to go for a run.

She ran upstairs and quickly threw on her training clothes. She took a swig of water from her water bottle, grabbed her MP3 player and headed back downstairs. Her phone was on the kitchen table, but she decided against bringing it as it would just annoy her. She grabbed a key and headed out.

She started off slow, warming up her leg muscles and slowly building up speed. The feeling of weightlessness that came with running still amazed her and she practically flew through the forest. She could forget everything when she ran, her troubles, her worries, the life she was living, everything. The only thing that had any bearing on her was the music on her MP3 player, and even that fell away sometimes.

Suddenly, she didn't feel so good. Black spots began to blur her sight and she felt really light headed. Next thing she knew, she was on the ground with blood spurting from her leg where a rock cut her. She had a moment of panic, she couldn't get up. It passed pretty quickly though and she managed to haul herself to her feet.

_It's nice to be in control, isn't it?_

"Shut up. Seriously."

_This is good! This means you are getting closer to your goal!_

She looked around for her MP3 player which had fallen when she blacked out. Light was fading fast and in the dark forest it was very difficult to see. She eventually spotted it under a few metres away. She walked over and bent down to pick it up.

The sound of a branch breaking behind her made her jump and turn around.

Her eyes swept across the path and the forest around her, but she couldn't see anything. It was nearly pitch black now. Her heart started thumping in her chest.

_You fucking idiot. Being out in the forest at night on your own._

"Wh-who's there?" she called out, but no answer came save for the sound of the wind breezing through the trees.

"Hello?" she called again, but nothing. She turned towards home and starting running ran as fast as she could, until...

"No, please God no..."

Black dots were starting to blur her vision again. She was about two hundred metres away from home.

"Come on, you can do this." She willed herself on.

She could see her house now, but she was feeling oh so faint. The only thing that was keeping her going now was fear. Fear of someone behind her, and fear that maybe she mightn't make it home.

She finally reached her front door. No lights were on in the house. She was alone. She fumbled through her pockets for her key, nearly dropping it. She managed to somehow open the door and close it behind her before passing out in the opening corridor.

Her mom came home about half an hour later to find Bree still on the floor. She turned Bree over and gasped at how pale she was and the blood that was pooling around her head. She ran into the kitchen and dialled 911.

"Emergency services, how may I direct your call?"

"Get me an ambulance, now."

**Hey guys, did you miss me?**

**Sorry, I know it's been forever, and I do apologise. **

**Please review, because it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside!**

**And I apologise for any mistakes make.**

**Love,**

**The-mirror-girl**

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxx**


	5. A Horrible Encounter

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

"Bree's blood sugar levels were dangerously low. We think that's the reason why she fainted."

"I don't understand. Why would her blood sugar be low?"

"The most likely cause would be a lack of sugar in the diet. We have her on a sugar water drip. But don't worry; she will make a complete recovery."

"That's a relief. When will she wake up?"

"Any moment now, Miss"

"Fantastic. And when can we take her home?"

"Well, when she wakes up I will give her a quick check over, ask her a few questions, but then she's free to go. Here is a meal plan, just to help regulate her blood sugar levels."

Paper rustling, the snap of a clip, order restored.

"Thank you so much Dr. Cullen."

Hands shake, perfect manners.

Bree slowly opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. Her clothes were gone, replaced by a thin gown. The bed she was lying in was uncomfortable, with course sheets and only one pillow. And that goddamn beeping noise.

Last night's events flooded back to her: her terror and the blackness that swallowed her whole. All erased in the mid afternoon sun and a sugar drip.

_Wonder how many calories there are coursing through your veins right now, being absorbed by your body? God, you're going to get so fat. _

"Look! She's opening her eyes!" exclaimed her foster-mother.

"Hi" whispered Bree. Her throat burned, each breath bringing a new wave of dull pain.

"Hello missy, you gave us quite a scare there" said her foster-father quietly, stroking her hair.

Her parents looked tired. Bree supposed they hadn't slept.

_Just one more thing you need to feel bad about._

"Good morning Bree. Do you know where you are?" asked the man Bree supposed to be Dr. Cullen.

She sat up slowly, only to be rewarded with a stabbing pain in her head.

_You must have fallen pretty damn hard girl. _

"The hospital, I passed out" she managed, putting on a brave face.

"That's right. What were you doing before you fainted, do you recall?"

"I was running. I felt a bit funny, so I took it slow, but when I was outside my house, I just collapsed" Bree had to choose her words carefully, as to not cause any alarm.

"OK, that's really good Bree. You hit your head pretty hard when you landed; I just had to make sure you didn't have a concussion or anything along those lines." Dr. Cullen flashed a reassuring smile that calmed Bree down completely.

"Thank you doctor" Bree smiled back shyly.

"No problem. Now I want you to take it easy for the next few days. I have given your parents a meal plan, just to get your blood sugar back to a healthy level. I would also recommend not doing any strenuous exercise for the next week or so. If you have any problems don't hesitate to call, OK?"

"Of course."

"Great. A nurse will be along to take out your IV and get you ready to go home."

He shook hands with her foster parents and left.

The car journey home was a quiet one, but not uncomfortably so. Nevertheless, Bree was happy when they pulled up outside the front door.

She unbuckled her seat belt and jumped out of the car, resulting in a moment of dizziness.

_Don't you dare pass out! Breathe, dammit!_

She breathed in deep and counted to ten before attempting to move again. Her parents exchanged nervous glances but she smiled at them and started towards the front door. She looked down at the spot where she had collapsed. A wave of guilt washed over her when she thought of how terrible it must have been to come home and find her lying there, not moving. She felt terrible worrying them like that.

She waited as her mother opened the door and followed her into the kitchen. Her mother pointed at a chair and put on the kettle for tea. Bree sat down thankfully, and traced the designs on the table cloth with her finger.

"How are you feeling sweetheart?" her foster-mother asked her gently, pouring the water over the tea bag.

"I'm fine now, just a bit dizzy." Bree smiled at her.

"I was so worried about you! I thought you were…" she trailed off, not able to finish the thought.

"I'm fine now, really." She tried to sound as reassuring as possible, but her voice just sounded empty. It seemed to satisfy her step-mom though, as she placed the sweetened tea in front of her and gave her a one armed hug.

"Don't do it again, promise?"

"I promise"

Bree sipped her tea slowly, reading through her suggested meal plan.

Three meals a day. And three snacks. She could barely restrain her rising terror.

"Looks like a lot, doesn't it?" her foster-dad commented.

"Yeah, look at the amount of sweet stuff. I thought it would be a bit more, well healthy" agreed her foster-mom.

Apart from the expected amounts of fruit and veg, there was also chocolate and toffee and other sweet things.

_Yeah, we will not be doing that. Thank you very much._

Bree drained her cup and stood up.

"I'm gonna go lie down for a bit, still feeling a bit tired"

"Ooh, sleep. That sounds delightful. I might go for a nap as well, unless you need anything…?" her foster-mom replied.

"I think I'll join you" added her foster-dad.

The three of them trudged up the stairs and bade goodnight outside their rooms.

Bree shut the door behind her and collapsed on her bed.

It was all too much, the concerned looks from her parents, the familiarity of everything, this new _food chart…_

Tears sprung to her eyes, but she brushed them away, frustrated. Crying wasn't going to help anything.

After a few minutes of just lying there, she sat up and reached for her cigarettes. She moved to her window and sparked one up, enjoying the feel of the gentle breeze on her face.

Her phone beeped, breaking the silence and making Bree jump.

She took a deep drag from her cigarette, holding her breath for ages before she exhaled.

She picked up the phone and saw she had three messages and four missed calls.

_Wow, you're loved. Shows how stupid people are, I guess._

She decided to tackle the texts first.

_Hey B, had an awesome day today, we should deffo do that again_ Diego, sent last night.

_Not answering my calls? That's just cold! Call me when you get the chance, or even better, turn up at mine with some waffles! _Diego, sent this morning. Can we say stalker?

The last text message didn't say the name or number of the sender. Bree felt a wave of dread wash over her when she hit open. _Stay away from my son, or I will get you. _

Bree dropped her phone in shock.

It all came rushing back to her. The weird phone call she had gotten - God, was it only yesterday morning – and last night, in the forest, the sound of footsteps, the feeling of being followed.

Tears sprung to her eyes. She was so scared. Her first instinct was to run and tell her foster-parents, but they had already run her to the emergency room, it would be cruel to worry them further. She considered informing the authorities, but she had remembered what Diego said yesterday, about him having friends. Suddenly, she wasn't so scared for herself. Her life wasn't worth that much; everyone who knew her knew that, but Diego's?

_Diego…_

She stubbed out her cigarette, threw on her jacket, and ran downstairs, calling out to her family that she needed to return books to the library, and slammed the front door.

Diego's house was on the other side of the forest, and the quickest way to get there was by following the main path through the trees, but she was terrified. It was in that place that she had felt his presence.

_Man up. You can do this. You need to tell him._

"Tell him what exactly? 'Hey, we can't see each other anymore because I got this text from your father and he doesn't want us to be together, but it's not me I'm worried about, it's you!' Yeah, that'll go down well" Bree argued with herself.

_Not in those exact words, but something along those lines, yes. Now for goodness sakes, get going._

Bree forced herself to walk into those trees, ignoring the rising feeling of unease.

_You can do this._

Bree was almost halfway through the expanse of trees when she heard it.

_Snap._

Someone was here, following her.

She willed her legs to move, to run as fast as they could, but she was frozen on the spot.

_It's probably just a deer or something. Stop being such a wimp!_

But she couldn't move to get away. All she could do was slowly turn around and peer through the trees, searching for some movement, irregularity, just something.

Then she saw him.

He looked like Diego, only broader, and harsher. He was wearing a cowboy hat and dark clothes.

He strolled towards her, closing the gap quickly.

_Do something dammit! Run, call Diego, something!_

Finally, she turned around and broke into a run, adrenaline coursing through her veins. But she just was not fast enough. After just a few seconds, she felt a firm hand clasp onto her arm, pulling her to a stop.

"And where are you going in such a hurry, Ms. Tanner?" he asked, sounding almost amused. Bree could smell the stench of alcohol on his breath.

"That is none of your business. Now, please release my arm." she retorted coolly, trying to release herself from his grip.

_Nice Bree. Don't let him know you're fucking terrified._

He tightened his grip on her arm. "See, I know who lives out this way. But you wouldn't be that stupid, would you darling, after I so specifically told you not to go near that boy"

"I have no idea what you are talking ab-"

"Don't you fucking dare play stupid with me, you little bitch" His tone changed abruptly from amused to furious. He twisted her arm, causing her to gasp with pain. "Leave him the fuck alone, or else."

"Please, stop…" Bree's arm was on fire and she was absolutely terrified.

"I don't think you understand what I mean. Maybe I need to show you what happens to little girls who disobey me!" he slurred, menacingly.

"What are you going to do? Hit me? Cut me? Break my goddamn arm? Well go right ahead, do whatever you want, because really, I don't care" she said, sounding a lot braver than she felt.

"Ooh, kitty's got claws. Well young lady, I'll have to put some manners on you, as that is no way to speak to your elders!" and with that he pushed her to the ground. Within seconds he was on top of her, hand covering her mouth while the other unbuttoned his jeans. He moved his hand from her mouth and started pulling off her coat.

"No, please, help me!" Bree called out, but she knew that no one would hear her out in the middle of a deserted forest.

He hit her swiftly in the ribs, knocking all the wind out of her.

_He's gonna kill you. _

Oh God…

He ripped the straps off her top and pulled down her tracksuit bottoms, leaving her in nothing but her underwear. He sat back and surveyed her, a hungry glint in his eyes.

"Bet you're sorry you said anything, you stupid bitch! Couldn't have just stayed away, could you? Well, you were warned!" She heard a rip and knew he had torn off her underwear.

He pulled down his jeans, positioned himself above her.

_This is it. This is actually happening. Oh my God. _

Bree tried to scream, but nothing came out. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and prayed that this was just a dream, but she knew that this was real and this was happening.

She dimly noticed someone shouting her name, the weight being thrown from on top of her, a fight, more shouting, but that was all miles away. She was in her own world, where nothing bad was happening to her, where she was safe.

She didn't open her eyes until she felt someone pull her into a sitting position and wrap a jacket around her.

_Diego._

She looked at his face, taking in the expression of complete rage and the eyes brimming with tears. But she couldn't assess it, couldn't figure out what was happening. She just wanted to shut her eyes and disappear

He pulled her close and she felt his body shake with deep sobs. He repeated the words "I'm sorry" over and over, but she couldn't say anything.

He picked her up, still wrapped in his jacket, and carried her through the forest.

After what felt like an eternity, he stopped walking hammered on a door.

"We're at my house Bree, you'll be safe here."

"Oh Diego, don't be so stupid, I'm not safe anywhere, not anymore" she said, and submitted herself to the darkness.

**Hey guys, I'm back!**

**Sorry I've been gone for so long, but you know how things are with school and whatnot.**

**This was a really difficult chapter to write, so I would love some feedback on it.**

**I'll try to update soon! **

**Love,**

**The-mirror-girl**

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**


	6. Dreaming

**Hey guys, it's me!**

**I know it's been a while, but trust me, I have great reasons. It's called sixth year, my final year of secondary school before college.**

**Hope ye can all forgive me!**

**I would like to dedicat****e this chapter to **** and her family. You are the reason I took this story up again. Thank you.**

**Anyhoo, we left off the Bree being attacked but then rescued by Diego and brought to his house, what now?!**

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xx**

Bree opened her eyes, but then snapped them shut when the light flooded in and hurt her.

"Diego! Diegooo! She moved!" someone called, a woman.

Suddenly all memories flooded in, causing Bree to gasp with pain, then instantly regret it when she felt her ribs protest strongly.

"Bree, Bree it's me, Diego, please open your eyes, please" Diego begged, grabbing her hand. His hand was covered in sweat, like he was really nervous. Bree cracked open her eyelids, slowly, as to avoid the ever-bright light.

"Oh _Bree_… I'm so sorry, I just can- I'm sorry, please, don't hate me…"

Bree gave his fingers a light squeeze, and he brought her fingers up to his lips, kissing them gently.

"Where am I?" Bree croaked, her throat as dry as sandpaper.

"You're in my house. It's three in the afternoon. Wednesday afternoon. You slept for a whole day." Diego explained gently, his voice laden with relief that she was finally awake.

"Oh God… I've gotta get home…" Bree pushed off the duvet, and noticed what she was wearing.

A nightdress.

Someone else's nightdress.

"What're you doing? You're not leaving Bree. My mom already called your house to say that you're staying at my house, my house being a girl named Jessica" Diego explained.

"I don't know anyone by that name. I have to go. Now." Bree was bordering on hysterical. She needed to have a shower and wash off the dirty feeling that covered her whole body, the feeling of his hands…

She shuddered.

"No. You're not leaving. I can't let you out of my sight, I'm sorry." He gripped her hand tighter, causing her to wince. When seeing her face, he quickly let go.

"I'm-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" Diego began.

"It's fine, just please, I need to go home, my parents will be going crazy…" Bree moved her legs over the side of the bed and nearly screamed in agony. She felt like her body had been thrown into a car compactor. Tears forced their way through her eyelids. She raised her hand to her face and brushed them away angrily.

Diego noticed and stood up suddenly, proceeding to pace angrily around the room, breathing heavily.

"I'm gonna kill him, Bree, I'm actually gonna rip him to shreds. How dare he, how fucking dare he do this to you!" His eyes were full of hatred and frustration, and he balled up his fist and punched the wall. Bree wanted to reach out and comfort him, but didn't know what to say and she was frozen in place. She just stared at him and waited for him to calm down.

"What am I gonna do?" Bree asked the air finally, her voice little more than a breath. Diego stopped pacing and looked at her, his pained eyes taking in every little detail.

"I don't know, but whatever you do, I'll be here with you every step of the way."

Diego eventually left the room to get Bree a glass of water. Bree sank her head down into the pillow and breathed in deeply. It smelled like Diego. It finally dawned on her that she was in Diego's bed, his room. She looked at the many CD's on his wall and the posters of musicians she had never heard of. She broke out of her reverie when the door opened.

"You must think I'm a monster" It was Diego's mom, standing in the doorway.

"No, I don't. Why would I?" She took a slow step into the room.

"Because. I let this happen to you. I let him hurt my sons. I could've stopped him…" Her voice was resigned, as if she knew there was nothing she could do. She didn't expect Bree to grant her reconciliation, she wanted Bree's hatred.

"You were scared." Bree stated, simply. She didn't know what to say. She just wanted to be left alone, to disappear into the pillows and melt out of the conscious world…maybe for ever. She did not want to have to comfort this woman. She didn't blame her, but she couldn't tell her what she wanted to hear, that she wasn't at fault.

"I'm sorry Bree. I'm so so sorry." After a long silence, she turned and left Bree alone with her thoughts.

Diego re-entered the room, carrying a glass of water and a bowl of fruit.

"You need to eat something" he stated, placing the bowl on the bedside table.

"No, I don't. I feel sick." It wasn't a lie. Her stomach was in so many knots the very thought of food made her want to get sick.

"OK." He lay down on the bed beside her, their arms almost touching. Bree closed her eyes. She was emotionally exhausted. She couldn't breathe without her ribs screaming in protest and she couldn't move because her lower half was broken and bruised.

She soon drifted into a fitful sleep.

_She was walking in the forest. She was going to say goodbye to Diego forever. It was the only way to keep him safe._

"_And where are you going in such a hurry, Ms. Tanner?" _

_The same voice, the same smell of alcohol._

"_That is none of your business. Now, please release my arm." Was that her? It sounded so alien…_

_His grip on her arm. "See, I know who lives out this way. But you wouldn't be that stupid, would you darling, after I so specifically told you not to go near that boy"_

"_I have no idea what you are talking ab-"_

"_Don't you fucking dare play stupid with me, you little bitch. Leave him the fuck alone, or else."_

"_Please, stop…" Her arm was on fire where he had her._

"_I don't think you understand what I mean. Maybe I need to show you what happens to little girls who disobey me!" _

"_What are you going to do? Hit me? Cut me? Break my goddamn arm? Well go right ahead, do whatever you want, because really, I don't care." Oh God, oh God, oh God. _

"_Ooh, kitty's got claws. Well young lady, I'll have to put some manners on you, as that is no way to speak to your elders!" _

_He was on top of her, hand covering her mouth while the other unbuttoned his jeans. He moved his hand from her mouth and started pulling off her coat._

"_No, please, help me!" Her voice screamed, but she knew it was a futile effort._

_He hit her swiftly in the ribs, knocking all the wind out of her._

_Oh God…_

_He ripped the straps off her top and pulled down her tracksuit bottoms, leaving her in nothing but her underwear. He sat back and surveyed her, a hungry glint in his eyes._

"_Bet you're sorry you said anything, you stupid bitch! Couldn't have just stayed away, could you? Well, you were warned!" She heard a rip and knew he had torn off her underwear._

_He pulled down his jeans, positioned himself above her._

Bree woke up, screaming, thrashing around in the bed. Diego shot up, searching the room frantically, looking for the source of danger.

"Come out and face me you fucking bastard. Come and face me for what you did, you disgusting prick!" Diego yelled, with more anger in his voice that Bree knew existed.

When he got no reply, he realised that there wasn't anyone there in the room but him and Bree. He took her in, in the miles too large nightdress that belonged to his mom, her pale tear streaked face, her tiny body... Every aspect of her appearance broke his heart.

"It-it was just a dream Diego." she whispered.

He put his arms around her and she buried her face in his chest. He could feel her body shake and knew she was crying. The face that she didn't make a single sound terrified him. He wished he could make everything better, but he couldn't. She felt so small in his arms, he could pick her up with one hand, she was so weightless… Broken.

"It's OK Bree, shh, it's ok, nothing can hurt you here." he said gently, reassuringly.

Bree nodded against his chest, but she didn't move for the rest of the night.

Diego was woken up hours later by the watery light flooding in through the window. He stretched out, relieving the tension in his limbs. It took him a few seconds to realise what was wrong with this scene…

Bree was gone.

**Oooh, where is she? Did he get her, or did she just go home, or is she gone at all?**

**You'll just have to wait and see, won't you!**

**Sorry about the shortness, hope you liked it guys,**

**Ciao!**

**The-mirror-girl**

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**


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